Mercy on Me
by sitarra
Summary: ‘Oh Lord, have mercy on my soul, For I have walked a sinful road. So I’m gonna get down on my knees, Beg forgiveness to help set me free. Lord, have mercy on me please’ Updated and fixed.
1. April 27, 1968

Title: Mercy on Me

**Title:** Mercy on Me

**Author:** sitarra

**Rating:** no clue but not R

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, as usual. The title belongs to Christina Aguilera from her song 'Mercy on Me' off of her Back to Basics album. I used exerts from that song as well as from 'Welcome' and 'Enter the Circus.' I highly recommend all the songs mentioned.

**Summary:** "Oh, Lord, have mercy on me."

**Thanks: **Thanks to Sam who listened to me day after day asking for her advice.

**A/N:** This story is approaching a different side of Clarisse, and Joseph as well. It takes place in her late teenage years and late twenties. The years are 1968, 1962 and 1963.

**IMPORTANT: **Please pay attention to all DATES and TIMES. It is important because if you don't, you will get confused. Also, pay attention to the marks separating each section. And please, if you don't read songs in stories, please DO. It's important to understand the vibe of the story.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls. Step right up, step right up. Come closer; you won't believe your eyes. Behind this curtain, witness something you've never seen before, heard before, dreamt before:

"The most amazing show on earth!

"So sit back. Relax. Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy ride to the other side."

* * *

April 27, 1968 – 19.26

Clarisse crossed herself as she kneeled at the altar.

_'Lord, have mercy on my soul_

_For I have walked a sinful road_

_And I'm down on my knees_

_Lord, have mercy on me please'_

He had returned. After five years, he had returned to Genovia. Thoughts of him had plagued her dreams every night for five years. She couldn't keep him off of her mind. She didn't want to. But why did he have to return? She wasn't ready yet. When she'd last spoken to him, she had concluded he would never return to Genovia and she would never see him again. She wasn't strong enough to be around him and yet that was the only place she wanted to be.

She bowed her head and prayed. "Oh Lord, have mercy on me."

* * *


	2. December 1, 1962

Thanks to Liesel Meminger(it's so wonderful to have another Christina Aguilera fan out there!), Captain Weirdo, and Zsulie for reviewing and to others who read but do not review.

* * *

December 1, 1962 – 17.30

Richard Gerard unlocked the front door to his home and ushered his friend inside. They both shook the snow from their coats and hats. It was snowing yet again and coming down hard.

"Is it snowing again?" Richard's younger brother Max said when he came across them in the foyer.

"Yes, it's snowing again. It's been snowing for hours; where have you been?"

"With Clarisse in the sitting room. She's helping me with my school project. Who's your friend?"

"Oh," Richard chuckled. "Max, this is my friend Joseph. Joe, this is my little brother Max."

Joseph smiled at the boy. "It's nice to meet you, Max. I've heard quite a few stories about you."

Max narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Whatever you heard, it wasn't true." The boy didn't bother staying around. He left the men in the foyer to rid themselves of the cold.

Richard looked over at his friend. "He's actually quite nice and friendly."

"I'll take your word for it." The two took off their coats and hung them by the door to dry. They stomped the snow off of their shoes and wiped them thoroughly on the mat. "I can't believe I've never been to your house before."

"I know. I figured now would be a good time," Richard told Joseph. I've been to your house so much. It was about time you came to mine."

"Especially considering I've known you well over a year," Joseph grumbled at him.

Richard smiled and motioned to the man. "Come on. I'll introduce you to my sister."

"Tell me something about her first."

"Well, she just turned seventeen. She's in her last year of school," he told him. "She's extremely beautiful and uh, oh yes, she's off limits."

Joseph went wide eyed. "What?" he said innocently.

Richard wagged a finger at him. "I know you. I've seen women throw themselves at you before."

"That's them, not me. I've never once acted on anything," he defended himself.

"I know but I'm just saying…" Richard motioned again to the man to follow him.

Joseph followed the man through the house. He admired the myriad of expensive things they passed. Joseph wasn't rich but he wasn't poor either. He envied Richard for the lifestyle but he knew that as much as it was a gift, it was a curse too.

"Hello, Clarisse," Richard greeted his sister. He leaned over the settee to kiss her cheek. "Where are mother and father?"

"They're dinging at the Daultrev's this evening," she answered. "Where have you been?"

"At class, he replied innocently. "Where else would I be?"

Clarisse hummed lowly with a smile playing at the corner of her lips.

"I was," Richard said, although Clarisse could hear the laugh he tried to hide. "I even brought home evidence. Clarisse, this is my friend Joseph, from school. Joe, this is my sister Clarisse."

Clarisse stood to greet the man. She wasn't prepared for the eyes that bored into her soul.

She held out her hand to him. "Hello," her melodic voice drifted to his ears. He gladly accepted her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. His lips tingled from the feeling.

"Hello."

* * *

The story will continue to unravel with another update tomorrow.


	3. prior in the day, April 27, 1968

April 27, 1968 – 11.46

Clarisse sighed heavily before sitting down at her desk. Pierre had just gone down for his nap, something he hated to do. He'd been fussy all day and had quickly protested when she suggested a nap. So she sat with him in his room and read to him and sang to him and rocked him until he finally fell asleep. He was going through a phase where all he wanted to do was be around Clarisse, helping her but ultimately distracting her. She would soon forget about her work and become absorbed in playing games with her son. It was fun in the daytime but hell on her at night, the only time she had to finish, and start, her work. Eventually, though, she knew Pierre would move to a phase where all he wanted to do was be around his father, just as Phillipe would one day. Clarisse had her bet placed on two weeks.

"Oh, darling, there you are," Rupert said from the doorway. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"I had to put Pierre down for a nap," she explained, standing. "He's been fussy all day. I'm surprised he even fell asleep at all."

"Wasn't he up earlier than usual?" Rupert remembered. Clarisse nodded.

"Six o'clock and the first thing he did was come and get me."

Rupert smiled and cupped her cheek. "You must be tired, darling."

"Surprisingly, I'm not. Why were you looking for me?"

He ran his thumb across her cheek once before removing his hand. "The new bodyguard is here, the one for you, and I wanted you to meet him."

She watched as Rupert motioned to the guard outside her door, who them motioned to someone else she couldn't see. Her jaw dropped to the floor when the man walked in.

"Clarisse, this is Joseph," Rupert introduced. Joseph stepped over to her; Clarisse's hand reached out automatically. He accepted it and kissed her hand gently.

She had to fight the shiver that made its way through her body. She was the queen, for heaven's sake! She shouldn't be acting this way.

His eyes met hers, the warmth of them not escaping her. "Your Majesty, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard wonderful things about you."

Clarisse stuttered at first before finding her words. "Thank you."

That was all she could manage. Every word she knew flew from her mind. She couldn't stop staring at him. _'Why now?'_

Luckily, Rupert didn't notice anything. "His first official day is tomorrow but I wanted him to meet everyone today and get settled in."

"Oh, well that's good." She could have slapped herself. She sounded plebian. She had years of the finest schooling and trite sentences were all she could come up with. "I hope you're finding the palace a pleasant place."

Joseph nodded. She was beautiful; she always had been and always would be. The years had done her well. She certainly looked happy. Well, right now she looked fearful.

"I'm finding everything to be very pleasant."

* * *

April 27, 1968 – 19.29

The statue stood silent, the forgiving words she needed to hear not coming from Him.

Clarisse leaned over the steps, her body feeling too weak to hold itself up. _'This wasn't supposed to happen,'_ she thought to herself as tears fell. _'I wasn't supposed to see him again, at least not this soon.'_

She was a married woman; she wasn't supposed to have these thoughts running through her head. She was in a wonderful place in her life. She had two wonderful children, a husband who loved her… a husband she cared for.


	4. later in the day December 1, 1962

December 1, 1962 – 21.12

"That snow is really coming down hard," Richard told the others as he looked out the bay window.

"Will mother and father make it home?" Max asked his sister. As if on cue, the phone rang. Clarisse saw Michaela, the housekeeper, walk from the kitchen to answer it.

"My guess would be no," Joseph muttered to the group.

Not even a minute later, Michaela came in the sitting room to inform the group.

"The snow fall is too heavy and the roads too icy for your parents to leave and arrive home safely. They will be staying overnight with the Daultrevs."

"Thank you, Michaela," said Richard. The older woman curtsied and left the room. "Well, that settles that. Joe, I think you should stay here tonight. We did walk here after all and when we started, it wasn't snowing so heavily."

"Oh, I don't want to put you out," Joseph started to say but Richard wouldn't hear it.

"You're staying," he said firmly. "You can have the guest bedroom across the hall from my room. I'll tell Michaela to prepare it."

He left the room in search of the Italian. The three sat quietly in the room, the occasional crackle of the fire the only noise.

Clarisse finally broke the silence by clearing her throat. "Well, I think it's time to get you ready for bed," she told Max, standing from her place.

"But I don't want to go to bed," Max whined. "I'm not tired."

"I don't care because it's still your bedtime. Come on." She threw an apologetic look Joseph's way. He only smiled as the two left the room. He kept his eyes on her until she was out of his sight. Now he knew why Richard said she was…

"Off limits, remember?" a deep voice told him. He looked over to his left to see Richard had reentered the room.

Joseph stood from his seat and joined his friend. "Yes, yes, I remember."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Joseph tossed and turned in the large bed. He couldn't sleep. Maybe it was because he was in a different location. Maybe it was because the bed was too soft. Or maybe it was because of the beauty sleeping only four doors down.

Or so he thought.

He heard a door shut and light footsteps walk past his door and he assumed to the stairs. He knew they weren't Richard's steps and he knew Max was sound asleep. He had heard Clarisse singing him to sleep.

He threw the covers off of him and shivered as the cold air hit him. He put on the robe Richard had loaned him and quietly stepped over to the door.

He peeked out the door first, making sure no one was there. The only thing he saw was the dim of the hall lights so he left his room and shut the door behind him.

The staircase was long and seemed endless. Joseph could hear a shuffling noise coming from the right where the Great Room was located. He stepped off the last step and suddenly the distance didn't seem so far away.

"Oh, hello."

Clarisse stood in front of him with a wide eyed expression on her face. She had a dark blue robe on with matching slippers he noticed as he looked down.

"I couldn't sleep and then I heard a noise down here so I thought I'd see what it was," he explained. Her expression changed to that of regret.

"That was me. I'm afraid I can be rather clumsy at times," she apologized. "Since we're both up, would you like some tea? I was just about to make some."

Joseph smiled. "That would be lovely."

They chatted about nothing in particular while she made the tea. She had told him he could stay in the other room while she made it, but he insisted he would stay with her. Mostly, he just wanted to be around her.

"So how do you know Richard?" Clarisse asked him when they settled in the Great Room.

"We met two years ago at school, right before graduation. We had been partnered up to help plan for an outing for the class. We were the only ones that agreed to do something beneficial for Genovia," he explained.

"You've known each other for two years and the family is just now meeting you?"

"That's what I told him. I suppose we never got around to it. At first, we were just friends who saw each other at school."

"Now you're not," she filled in.

"No. I wouldn't call us best friends but we're close."

She nodded and sipped at her tea. She was being entirely inappropriate. There she was drinking tea in the middle of the night with a man she hardly knew. But there was something in the back of her mind telling her that everything was all right. She knew he was a good man; she had learned a great deal about him over supper. He was handsome man as well, but she wasn't supposed to notice that. Instead she opted to change the subject.

"I always enjoy watching the snow through this window," she told him quietly. "Whenever I can't sleep and it's snowing, I always come down here to watch it."

"You make it sound as if you never sleep during the winter," he commented. He settled further into the cushions of the couch.

She smiled and moved her eyes to her tea cup. "I do sleep during the winter but I've had a lot on my mind lately. It's complicated."

"I'm a good listener," he told her. She only continued to smile and play with her tea cup. She felt too comfortable around him. She never felt comfortable around anyone in only a few short hours. It was insane and completely unlike her.

"I noticed Richard calls you Joe," she mentioned, changing the subject again. "Would you rather I call you that as well?"

"No," he chuckled. He set his tea cup down on its saucer and set the two on the coffee table. "I like that you call me Joseph. I like the way you say my name."

"Do you have a last name, Joseph?" She drew out his name just to see what he would do. She saw a smile slide onto his lips.

"Yes, I do. It's de Vivero."

"Joseph de Vivero," she said, testing it out. "I like that. It makes you sound… important; happy."

"Important?" he parroted. "I'm not already important?"

Clarisse knew he was teasing her but she couldn't help the guilty feeling she received.

"Yes, you are. I couldn't think of a better word to use." When he started laughing, she couldn't help but join him.

She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed like she didn't have a care in the world. What was this man doing to her?

"Joseph, I have to tell you," she started when their laughter died down. "I feel comfortable around you, like I can be myself."

He looked her dead in her eyes. "I wouldn't want you to be any less," he told her seriously.

He had no idea how much she appreciated those words.

* * *

The following chapter(s) will steadily take place in present day 1970.


	5. that night, April 27, 1968

Disclaimer: The song from Mary Poppins does not belong to me

* * *

April 27, 1968 – 21.00

To the doorman, the queen looked like she had just seen death. Her head was held high but her mind was in another place. He didn't bother to welcome her home. She wouldn't hear him anyway.

Rupert, however, didn't appear to notice anything was amiss.

"There you are. Where did you get to after supper?"

Clarisse did her best to smile at her husband so she wouldn't worry him. "I went to the church to see the Archbishop," she partially lied to him. She had gone to the church but she would never confess her problems to another living soul.

"Oh, well I hope everything's all right," Rupert said sincerely. She nodded her assurances. Rupert was none the wiser. "That's good, then."

"Where are Pierre and Phillipe?"

"That's why I came to find you. They're ready for you to sing them to sleep. Pierre says I don't sing quite as well as you do."

Her smile was livelier when she heard that. "Then I suppose I'd better get up there."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Mama!" Pierre cried when Clarisse entered the room. Her face warmed at the sight of her first born.

"Hello, my sweet boy. What have you been up to?" She walked over to where he sat on the floor and sat on the rocking chair next to him.

"I made you a picture," he told her, holding up a colorful piece of paper. It was mostly red, blue, and green but she could see a couple of stick figures in the middle.

"This is very beautiful," she told him honestly. "I'll have this framed and I'll put it in my office."

She placed it next to her for safe keeping before picking him up and settling him on her lap. He was all dressed for bed in red footie pajamas. He didn't look tired. In fact, he looked like he could play for hours more. But Pierre loved spending time with his mother, listening to her read and sing to him. With her sons, Clarisse felt at peace.

"Mama, can we go outside and play tomorrow?"

"If the weather's nice, we certainly can. I thought you were ready for me to sing to you."

"I am!" he assured. She chuckled at his eagerness.

"Would you like to hear a story first?" Pierre shook his head. "All right, then. Close your eyes."

Pierre did as he was told. Clarisse felt his little body relax, or as she described it, go limp. She thought for a moment before settling on a lullaby her mother used to sing to her. It was Pierre's favorite. So she sat there and rocked him while he fell fast asleep to the sound of her gentle voice.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Clarisse entered Phillipe's room to the sound of his cries. She sighed. _'He is being difficult today.'_

Rupert sat in the rocking chair holding Phillipe. The two-week-old boy's face was red from screaming and his father looked downright exhausted. At the sight of his wife, Rupert heaved a grateful sigh. Not for the first time, Phillipe was protesting to be held by his father. Phillipe tried to push him away with his small, flailing arms but Rupert held on tight. Phillipe didn't appear to like when he did that so he screamed louder.

"I'll take it from here, darling," Clarisse said over her son. Rupert didn't have to be told twice. He handed Phillipe over to her, the little boy holding to his mother tightly. Rupert stood to leave but not before kissing his wife's cheek.

With Rupert gone, Phillipe slowed his crying. Clarisse was glad he behaved for at least one of them.

She settled in the rocking chair Rupert had just vacated. "I wish you would behave for your father, Phillipe," she told the two-week-old.

Phillipe only looked up at his mother with watery eyes. Clarisse sighed.

"Would you like me to sing to you now?"

Phillipe continued to look at his mother. His crying had stopped and his body had relaxed in her arms.

"Or would you like me to tell you a story?"

Phillipe remained silent. He managed to bring his fist up to his mouth to suck on it. Clarisse knew he couldn't possibly be hungry as she had fed him before she had left for the church. Phillipe's brown eyes continued to stare up at her. She smiled at her new-born.

"I think I'll tell you a story first," she conceded. "Once upon a time, there was a handsome prince from Spain who came to Genovia. He was very popular among the local people. He lived in a small house on a small piece of land where he grew pears. One day, this handsome prince met a beautiful princess. It didn't take long for the two to fall in love. However, no one knew of their love because the princess had a secret she hadn't told the prince: she was engaged to be married to another prince who would be king by the end of the year.

"The princess delayed telling her prince the news because he had become her best friend and she didn't want to lose him. So the prince was blissfully unaware the two lived happily for only a little while. One day, the princess decided she couldn't lie to him anymore. She told him she was engaged to someone else. The prince couldn't believe it so he left her."

Clarisse met her son's eyes. "She was very sad. She lost the only man she had ever loved more than anything in the world. The prince moved on with his life, only to return to Genovia one day to see his princess was married with children."

She couldn't help the faint smile that crept onto her lips. Phillipe gurgled quietly as he continued to suck on his hand. "You know what, my beautiful baby boy? You're making Mama feel all better."

Phillipe kicked his legs out from his blanket. To Clarisse, he didn't look like he would fall asleep any time soon.

"You still look wide awake, little Phillipe. If I sing, will you fall asleep like your brother?"

She received no answer from her small counterpart except for another gurgle. She chuckled at him before deciding what to sing.

"Stay awake," she began singing softly. "Don't close your eyes."

She was halfway through the song when his eyes closed. She finished the song at almost a whisper and was pleased to find him asleep. But she didn't put him to bed right away.

She wished her fairytale had been just that—a fairytale. She didn't know why she had told her son that story. He was two-weeks-old; it wasn't like he understood anyway. To Phillipe, it was just the comfort of his mother's voice.

Why had she lied to him? Technically, she hadn't lied; she withheld information. But she had seen how much pain he was in when she told him. She had never hurt someone like that before and it wasn't something she wanted to repeat.

Except now he was back and now it was her heart breaking at the thought of him.

_'I've been careless and I have been warned_

_And the devil inside me is torn_

_God bless the man that I have scorned'_


	6. April 28, 1968

April 28, 1968 – 13.56

She looked so happy as she played with her son on the green grass. She had moved on with her life.

Perhaps she had never been his to begin with. Perhaps she had only pretended. 'No,' he thought to himself as he watched her oldest son throw a ball to her. Her emotions were obvious, at least to him. He had seen the shock in her eyes when he arrived yesterday. He had seen the fear as well. And the love. He had seen those emotions in her eyes for the first time only five years ago. To him, she was an open book. To others, she merely put on a show.

_'Always takin' a bow_

_Always workin' a crowd_

_Always makin' the rounds_

_Always playin' the clown'_

He shook himself out of his thoughts and continued to stare blankly ahead like he was supposed to. With sunglasses, it was difficult to tell where his gaze actually lay.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Joseph, would you come in here for a moment please?" Clarisse called out into the hallway. She rubbed her palms against one another in anxiety. They were clammy. She couldn't remember the last time she was so nervous.

Suddenly there he was.

"Shut the door please." She couldn't look him in the eye. Not yet. "Uh, I wanted to talk to you."

"Have I done something wrong, your Majesty?" she heard him ask. She could hear something in his voice, something… bitter. She didn't blame him.

Despite the circumstances, she couldn't help scoff. "No, you have not. I simply think that we should talk."

When he said nothing, she knew it would be difficult. She leaned against the front of her desk, her fingers tapping nervously. "How have you been?"

Joseph shrugged. He wanted to hate her, to be mad at her, but he just couldn't. So he tried to appear uninterested. "I've been well. I've kept busy. I was with the Carabinieri for three years, initially as a soldier then as a translator. After that, I did some work with the Peace Corps."

She stood there amazed at him. He wanted to be a security guard after doing such good for humanity? She told him so. "After all of that, what led you to do this?"

Again he shrugged. "I'm not sure. I enjoyed my work greatly but I suppose I felt it was time to move on. I've been doing that a lot over the years."

Her heart pulled. She knew he was talking about her. Suddenly she couldn't meet his eyes anymore. "Do you hate me?" Her voice was small.

His posture relaxed. He debated whether or not to move closer to her.

His emotions got the best of him.

He stepped closer and hesitantly reached for her hand. She let him and for that he was grateful.

"I can't hate you," he assured her. He lifted her chin so he could read her eyes. "I still love you; I never stopped loving you, but I am still angry at you."

Her eyes widened at his revelation. This was entirely too much for her in only two day s time. But to know that he still loved her and hadn't stopped made her heart flutter wildly. Many a night had she laid there wide awake with guilt in her heat for loving a man who wasn't her husband. She cared for Rupert, she did, but she knew she could never find it in her heart to love him. She couldn't when her heart already belonged to someone else. Knowing that her first love, her true love, felt the same way made her feel her emotions were not in vain.

But the guilt would always lie with her while she slept at night.

Finally she found the words, and the strength, to reply. "Anger I can deal with, so long as you can find it in your heart to one day forgive me, and I can find forgiveness in myself as well."

Joseph nodded. "I'm fairly positive I can do that, but don't blame yourself," he said firmly.

She scoffed. "Joseph, I…"

"No," he repeated just as firmly. "I've had five years to think about it and I've actually become quite understanding, with some help from your brother. You're not to blame."

"Yes, I am," she insisted. She had deceived him. She had lied to him. She had sinned.

Her tears were threatening to fall.

"No, you're not. I understand why you didn't tell me but I do need to know one thing now."

Clarisse nodded. "Anything."

"Did you love me? Were you in love with me?"

Unabashed, she nodded as her tears began falling. "Very much so," she all but whispered. "That's why I didn't want to tell you. Joseph, you have to believe me. It hurt me just as much as it hurt you, but I had a duty to fulfill."

He placed a finger over her lips to silence her. "I know you did and I understand. You're a bigger person than I for doing it, Clarisse."

She couldn't help the small smile that spread across her lips. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." She gripped his hand tighter. She was afraid if she let go, he would disappear. "I do hope we can be friends again."

Joseph actually smiled. "Of course we can. After all, we are going to be spending a lot of time together."

"I'm glad." She turned deathly serious. "Joseph, I wouldn't trust anyone but you with my life."

"And I'm going to protect you with mine."

The months dragged on and Clarisse's guilt-laden heart lessened, albeit slightly, by the day. The rift was mended between Joseph and her and a pattern in their lives emerged.

Pierre and Phillipe created a soft spot in Joseph's heart. The three took to one another quickly, much to the delight of Clarisse. At times, Joseph also doubled as a babysitter but he didn't mind. They were delightful children who were always eager to play.

Joseph had also gotten to know the king. He had to admit, Rupert was a kind man who loved his family. But he also had to admit that he himself could do a better job. Joseph couldn't begin to explain the jealousy that came over him any time Rupert was near Clarisse. It was moments like those that made Joseph's heart cringe.

But he dealt with it day by day. He often had to remind himself that she wasn't his anymore. She belonged to someone else and it would remain that way. He couldn't keep his true feeling at bay, though. He was falling in love with her all over again. He could only pray that somewhere in the realms of her heart she felt a fraction of what he did.

If Clarisse ever gathered the courage, she would tell him she returned his feelings. She often thought about it but then she would look at Rupert and her sons and realize her thoughts would have to remain just that. She knew it would be unfair to either party. She had already committed a sin when she engaged in a relationship while betrothed to Rupert. Now, to have love and lust in her heart for the same man while married to Rupert—the king!—would be committing the harshest crime known to man and unforgivable. Every day she pushed the thoughts out of her head and every night they returned. She was in love with someone else. How could she live with herself?

She knew Rupert loved her, was in love with her, but she couldn't find more than affection for him in her heart. She tried to love him, she did, but she knew it would never be. She loved him only as the man who had given her her children.

Joseph she loved with her whole being.

_'Who'll be stickin' it out_

_Who'll be stayin' around_

_When the lights go down?'_


	7. June 24, 1968

June 24, 1968 – 16.44

"Mama, what's this?" Pierre asked, ever the curious boy.

Clarisse looked up from the paper she was reading to fins him holding a framed picture. She motioned for him to come over to her so she could get a better look at it. She pulled her son onto her lap, smiling when she saw the image of her brothers staring back at her.

"This is a picture of your uncles, my brothers," she explained. "You've met them before but you were very young. This is Richard and this is Max and I'm the one in the middle."

"Oh. Where Phillipe at?"

Clarisse chuckled at his short attention span. She supposed to a four-year-old, photos weren't too exciting.

"He's taking a nap in the nursery."

"When he be awake?"

"He'll be awake in time for supper."

"Are we invited?"

Clarisse looked up from her son at the sound of a rich baritone voice. 'Speak of the devil…'

"What are you two doing here?" She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. In the doorway stood Max and Richard, both in their military uniforms. They had the biggest smiles plastered on their faces.

Richard shrugged. "We thought we'd visit you."

"And come see our nephews," Max added.

"Why didn't you call?" She stood to greet them.

"We wanted to surprise you," said Max.

"That and he has some news to tell you," Richard blabbed. He quickly ducked out of the way before his brother could hit him.

Clarisse looked back and forth between both of them. Pierre continued to sit contently at her hip. "What news?"

Max looked over at his brother with an expression that showed his anger. Richard only smiled and settled into the closest chair. Max looked back at his sister who was still patiently waiting.

"Well," he started slowly. He sighed deeply. "I'm getting married."

The delight she felt was obvious on Clarisse's face. She set Pierre down, much to his displeasure, and pulled Max into a hug.

"Oh, I can't believe my baby brother is getting married. Tell me everything."

Pierre crawled over to the door, going undetected by his mother but not by his uncle. Richard stopped him by placing a foot in front of him and causing Pierre to look up. The two stared at one another for a little while until Richard made a funny face that caused the young one to laugh. Pierre sat there and continued to let his uncle make a fool of himself.

"Well, her name is Ruth and she's from the States. She's funny and beautiful and I know you're going to love her."

"Have you set a date yet?" Clarisse wondered.

Max shook his head. "No but we're having the wedding in Genovia. She's flying out to visit near the end of July. You're going to love her, Clarisse."

Clarisse smiled at his excitement. "Oh, I can't believe this. I never thought you'd be the next one to marry."

"Neither did I," Richard piped in. He was now playing with Pierre, pushing a little car across the floor.

"Now we just have to get you married off," Clarisse told him. Richard shook his head stubbornly. "Just you wait. How long are the two of you visiting?"

"I'm only here for a few weeks," Richard said. "Then I have to report back to my post."

She smiled at both of them. "Then we'll have to make the best of it."

* * *

June 25, 1968 – 9.51

Richard moseyed around his sister's office. He looked through every book; smiled at every picture.

"You have the most darling children, Clarisse," he told her, grinning at her picture of the two boys.

"Yes," she agreed as every mother would, "but they're quite rebellious at times."

He managed to hug her from his place behind her desk chair. "You're a terrific mother."

"And you're just trying to suck up." She elbowed him away. "What do you want?"

He tried to play innocent. "Who, me? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

She made a humming noise at him. She was doing it again. She was giving him that look.

He folded. "Oh, all right. There was something I wanted to ask you."

She set her pen down somewhat forcefully. "See, I told you. You forget I know you so well, Richard."

"That you do, Clarisse." He settled in the chair in front of her desk. His expression had changed drastically, from one of happiness to one of a somber mood. It concerned her.

"What did you want to know, Richard?" she asked, pushing her work aside. It seemed trivial now.

The man before her took a few deep breaths. He twiddled his fingers and tapped a foot. He always had known how to annoy her.

Just as she was about to tell him to stop, he spoke.

"How's it been seeing Joe again?"

All the air in her body left her. Her mouth gapped open as she leaned back in her chair.

"How do you know about that?" she breathed.

"We're friends, Clarisse. After he left the army, we stayed in touch. He told me about it maybe a week before he came here." She remained silent in her place. "Have the two of you spoken about…?"

He let his question hang in the air. She knew what he meant.

Clarisse nodded. "We spoke about it and we've put it behind us. We've… moved on." She inhaled deeply, as if it were physically painful to talk about it.

"Are you all right, Clarisse?"

She flashed him a fake smile. "Of course I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

'_Because ending your relationship with him nearly killed both of you, that's why,'_ he thought to himself but he would never say that out loud to her. He had seen how in love she was with Joseph and he with her. He had seen the happiness in their eyes day after day for months. He had seen how much they cared for one another. He had seen the devastation to their souls on that sad, fateful day in May.

Richard shook his head. "I never should have introduced the two of you."

Clarisse looked him square in his eyes. "Yes, you should have. It was simply a sad twist of fate that I was already promised to someone else."

"But you wouldn't have to deal with the… awkwardness if I hadn't."

"Richard, it isn't awkward now. It was the happiest six months of my life filled with memories that will last me my lifetime. The only awkward part about all of this is being in the same room with both Joseph and Rupert. I've been to church more these past three months than I've ever been in my entire life." He opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him. "I'm fine and I will continue to be fine. I simply have to take it day by day."

Richard kept quiet for a little while. Faith was important to his sister; he'd always known that. He could have only imagined the thoughts that had gone through her head when she had her relationship with Joseph. She'd probably convinced herself she was going to Hell for it. He knew otherwise. She had simply loved someone who loved her in return. There would be no punishment for that.

"Is it really so difficult to love Rupert?" Richard asked softly. She didn't look surprised he had asked her that.

But her sons and Joseph saved her from having to answer.

Pierre ran over to her. "Phillipe not happy, Mama," he told her.

"Oh? What's the matter?" She looked up as Joseph stepped through the office door with a crying Phillipe in his arms. This was not the first time that day. She looked at her watch. "Oh, it's time for him to eat."

"Ooh," came from Pierre.

Joseph gently transferred the three-month-old to his mother's arms. Clarisse quietly thanked him as she made her son comfortable in her arms. Richard stood to leave the room and Joseph picked up Pierre to take him from the room.

"I'll shut the door behind us," he told her.

"Thank you, Joseph," Clarisse called from behind him.

* * *

July 2, 1968 – 20.49

"So tell me about how palace life is treating you," Richard asked his longtime friend.

It was night and most everyone had retired to their room.

Joseph poured the two a cup of coffee and brought it over to the table.

"It's been… nice," Joseph answered. "Everyone is very friendly. I'm becoming great friends with Blake, the chief of security. All in all, I really can't complain."

Richard sipped at his hot coffee. "How has it been seeing Clarisse again?"

At that, Joseph was silent. Should he tell the other man it was a curse but a blessing at the same time? That it made his heart soar but his lungs gasp for air at the same time?

"It's been all right," Joseph answered.

"Oh, come on!" Richard exclaimed loudly. Joseph was taken aback. "Tell me the truth, man! I'm dying to know!"

Despite his shock, Joseph chuckled. Richard always had been nosy.

"It hasn't always been easy but… it's wonderful seeing her again. It hurts seeing her with someone else but I take it day by day. I've also gotten to know the king and I believe he is a good match for her. Not the best but good enough."

"You are a good man, Joe," Richard told him. "I don't think I could have come back."

Joseph looked at his friend. No one could miss the sadness there. "I had to so I could put everything in the past. I'll always love her; that will never change. I just want to be her friend now. I just want to be there for her in case she ever needs me."

Richard pat the man on his back. "I take it back. You're an excellent man."


	8. July 7, 1968

July 7, 1968 – 10.53

"You've been busy this morning, darling," Rupert told Clarisse when she came into his office. "You woke before me, didn't you? That's unlike you."

"Well, I couldn't sleep any longer and then Phillipe decided to make sure I didn't get any more sleep," Clarisse recapped. "I've spent the majority of the morning with the boys."

"Are they with Julia now?" Julia was the boys' nanny. She also acted as Pierre's teacher at home.

Clarisse nodded. "They're in the play room reading. At least they were when I left them."

Rupert pushed aside his schedule and joined her in the seating area. He sat across from her on the navy blue settee and subtly examined her. She looked a tad bit tired but that was expected for a mother of two young boys.

"Are you all right, Clarisse?" he asked her. For a king, his voice was awfully small.

She looked at him, puzzled. "I'm fine, Rupert. Why do you ask?"

He shrugged his shoulders and gave her a small grin. "You seem… distant lately. Like there's something weighing heavily on your mind."

He had noticed this change in her almost three months ago. She became quieter and he noticed her spending extra time on her prayers in church. She spent more time with Pierre and Phillipe, not that there was anything wrong with that.

He had first noticed this type of behavior five years ago, before they married and shortly after. Five years ago, it always seemed as though something was weighing on her heart. Her mind was always elsewhere and when he called her back to the present, she was always quick to apologize. He always told her he didn't mind and he never had.

Perhaps she had someone on her mind, a man from her past possibly. Perhaps she missed him. Rupert knew that Clarisse wasn't as happy as she could be with her life at the palace, as queen. He could see it in her eyes every time he looked at her, but he could also tell that she loved being a mother. He knew that was something holding her back from loving him.

She tried, though, bless her heart. Rupert knew she cared for him and worried for him. That had been obvious when he had contracted a particularly nasty strain of influenza a few years back. She hadn't left his side for three whole days. But he knew she would never be in love with him and that was all right. It hurt sometimes but it was all right. They were friends and wasn't that all people expected from monarchs?

Clarisse laughed off his concern. "I suppose I'm still in shock at the arrival of Richard and Max," she said, hating herself for lying to her husband. "I'm still surprised Max is getting married. I still think of him as my baby brother."

She fell silent. It seemed like a pathetic excuse but it worked. Rupert slowly nodded. He would buy that. For now.

"Please Clarisse, if anything is ever troubling you, don't hesitate to come to me," he pleaded to her. "I hate to see you in turmoil."

Clarisse joined him on the settee and took hold of his hands. They were warm and soft, a comforting touch.

"I promise I will in the future, darling," she vowed. "But sometimes there are obstacles I must figure out for myself."

His brow creased. Now he was really worried. "It's nothing horrible, is it?"

She gave him a beautiful smile to assure him all was well. "Everything will be fine. I have no doubt that the solution will present itself."

"What's happened, Clarisse?" He was eager to know.

And wasn't that the ten thousand dollar question?

She couldn't bring herself to tell him. Even if she could, she had no doubt the situation would become awkward and she would once again lose her best friend.

So she kept the smile on her face and kissed his cheek. "Everything will be fine," she told him. "So long as you'll be patient with me, everything will be fine."

His heart almost broke at that. "I'll always be patient with you."

"I know you will," she said softly. "I love you all the more for it."

* * *

July 7, 1968 – 20.49

"Joseph?" Clarisse called into the hallway. He appeared quickly. "Are the boys with Julia?"

"Yes, ma'am. Pierre is practicing his lessons and Phillipe is simply being Phillipe."

She seemed fine with that so she motioned for him to come in.

"Come in, Joseph, and keep me company." He did as she bade. Since their conversation a few months ago, they had transitioned nicely back into their old relationship as friends, first and foremost. In the hours she spent alone in her office, he would often join her and they would talk for hours. They never spoke of anything in particular and she usually led most of the topics but they had a good time doing it and it filled what was usually a lonely silence in her office.

Clarisse resumed her seat at her desk as Joseph enjoyed the comforts of what was becoming his favorite chair.

"You know, it's felt much like the past with my brothers here these past couple of weeks," Clarisse shared with him. "It's much like old times."

"I agree. Only now we've all grown up and we all have adult responsibilities."

She chuckled. "That is very true."

Joseph turned somber. "But sometimes I miss the old days a little too much, miss the way things were."

She knew he was looking for a reaction from her.

And she knew she would give him one.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

May 3, 1963 – 12.51

She couldn't tell him. She couldn't. Absolutely couldn't. He was a good man, a great man. He didn't deserve this.

But she hadn't been able to help herself.

_'Jesus, I must confess_

_That in all my loneliness_

_I've forsaken and I've sinned'_

She'd broken her vows. All right, so she was married yet. She had still sinned and she was certain everyone could see it written on her face.

How could she do this to someone? People assumed. They assumed because she was betrothed to a prince, she was the happiest girl in the world.

She wasn't.

Only when she was with _him_ was she happy and all the loneliness went away. He made her forget about the rest of the world and think only of themselves, think only of the love he had for her and she for him.

Now she was a horrible person. She couldn't possibly tell him.

"Clarisse? You wanted to see me?"

He was so unsuspecting. What was she doing?

"Yes, I did." She had asked him to meet her at their spot by the lake. She had been waiting for a while; she arrived early to clear her head beforehand. "I… I wanted to tell you something."

He caught the undertone in her voice. "Nothing bad, I hope."

She chose to remain silent. He approached her and grabbed hold of her hands. He squeezed them gently before kissing her. She held tight to him, savoring the feel of him, the taste of him. She didn't want to let him go.

"I would first like to say I'm sorry," she told him, resting her forehead against his.

"Why does this sound like a death sentence?" Joseph asked, trying to go for humor but knowing it wouldn't work. He had a sinking feeling in his heart.

"It's just as bad as one." She pulled her head back so she could see his eyes. She didn't let go of his hands.

"I haven't been completely honest with you about everything. There is something quite large I've left out."

"It can't be that terrible," Joseph rationalized.

She wised that were true.

"I'm engaged to be married to the prince of Genovia in six month's time."

There was no need to beat around the bush.

Clarisse couldn't bring herself to look Joseph in the eye. She didn't want to see the anger in his eyes or the hurt.

His hands went lax in hers. She wasn't surprised.

"You're … What?" was all he managed to say. She began to pace.

"I should have told you from the start but I just couldn't. I've know all my life I was chosen to marry the prince. Do you know how confining that is? How restricted life becomes? I have to uphold an image all the time and this…" She slowed her rant. She brought her eyes to his and took hold of his hands. The pain in his eyes mirrored her own. "This is freedom, and … and love and something that makes me want to forget everything else in the world. I've never felt freer in my entire life. I feel at ease with you. I want to forget my duties and I have… until now."

Joseph remained silent so she would finish.

"Something's been expected of me and I have to see it through. I have a duty to Genovia and I realize now that I can't ignore it."

He released a long breath. He'd had plans for the future, for their future. They had only been together for a few short months but it seemed like years. He knew he wanted to spend his life with her. To find out that she had been engaged this entire time… It was as though someone had taken a dull knife to his flesh and was attempting to cut him open unsuccessfully.

"Joseph, say something. Anything," she begged.

"I don't know what to say, Clarisse. Perhaps that my life has been torn apart. Or maybe that my dreams have just been shattered. What do you expect me to say, Clarisse?"

He let go of her hands and stepped back a pace. The look on his face said it all.

_'Leaving fragments of a man so broken'_

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Am I different compared to then?" she asked Joseph in a small voice. Certainly not the voice of a queen.

Joseph thought for a moment, remembering the Clarisse from five years ago.

"Yes," he finally answered. "You laughed more and you had less to worry about. Of course, you have taken on the roles of queen and mother so I would be surprised if you hadn't changed a little."

"Oh."

"Or perhaps it's because of the guilt that has plagued you and the absence of a friend who needs you as much as you need him."

She didn't know what to say to that. She had changed. She knew she didn't laugh as much as she should. Come to think of it, she really only laughed when she was with her sons. There wasn't much to laugh about around a bunch of stiff diplomats. There was that one incident the suckling pig but she had found that to be more mortifying than hilarious.

"Do you regret it?" Joseph asked, bringing her out of her thoughts. She looked at him. She knew exactly what he was talking about. It was one of her most cherished memories.

Slowly she shook her head. "No, I don't." She stood and sat across from him. "I only regret that I could not give you all of me. I regret that I could not be what you wanted me to be."

Joseph nodded, accepting that answer. They had had a wonderful six months together. He tried not to think of what could have been between them.

It only brought images of what would sadly never be.

"I meant every word I said to you during our relationship. Every word."

"I never doubted that, Clarisse. You're the most honest woman I know. I never doubted your words," he repeated to assure her.

"But I feel as though you have," she said somewhat urgently. "You are, without a doubt, one of the most important people in my life, then and now. When I first saw you that day in my office, I felt as though my best friend had returned."

"Can we have that again?" Joseph wondered. "Can we go back to our friendship?"

"I'd like to think that we can. I'd certainly love to try."

He leaned forward, closer to her. He looked at his hands as he spoke. "I miss the conversations we used to have at the lake. I miss the blithe atmosphere that used to surround us. I miss the best friend that I spent nearly every day with. I never wanted to lose my best friend."

"You never had to," she argued. "It was your decision to leave."

"I know and I do regret it but I couldn't have stayed to see you with him," he reminded. "Now, it's a little easier, especially since I've gotten to know him."

"He's a good man," she said automatically. "It was a good match."

"Do you love him?" he asked her. He was dying to know.

Clarisse swallowed the lump in her throat. She had guessed he would ask her that. She had dreaded it. She should answer yes. It was the right answer. But it wasn't what her heart was telling her.

"He loves me and it makes me want to try to love him," she confessed. "But I don't think I'll ever be _in_ love with him. We're friends and that's more than people expected."

He nodded. That seemed to be all he needed to know.

"I feel so confused, Joseph." She leaned back into the comfort of the chair, as if that would somehow lessen the ache in her heart. "Seeing you again… It has awakened something in me."

He took hold of one of her hands. "I'll leave if you want me to. Just say the word and I'll move on to the next adventure in my life."

"No, I don't want you to leave, Joseph," she said adamantly. "Not when you've only just returned."

He didn't need to be told twice.


	9. May 28, 1963

May 28, 1963 – 19.46

"Thank you for coming to graduation."

Joseph turned at the sound of the melodic voice. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of Clarisse. She looked beautiful. She had changed out of her gown for graduation and changed into a light blue dress.

"You shouldn't be out here in such a nice dress," he lightly scolded her.

"It's worth it," she shrugged. She sided up next to him. "I'm surprised you're actually speaking to me."

He smiled sadly. "Try as I may, I find it impossible to ignore you. The pull of you is too strong."

Clarisse couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. Joseph turned his gaze to the lake; she followed his example. There was a slight breeze in the air, making ripples over the water. They stood next to each other in silence. For Clarisse, it was nice to know that they were still comfortable with one another.

"I've joined the army," Joseph said after a pregnant pause.

Her head whipped towards him. Her eyes were wide, fearful. "What?" her voice trembled slightly.

Joseph turned his body to face her. His head hung down, as if he were ashamed of his news. He took hold of her hands and felt the tremors that passed through them.

"I just don't think I can stay here right now with you and…" he drifted off. He couldn't bring himself to say the man's name. He met her eyes and was ashamed to see the tears there. He had caused that. "I'd like to treasure the happy moments you and I had here."

She bit her lip to keep the tears at bay. She stepped closer to him. "I wish you wouldn't leave."

"I think it's for the best right now," he rationalized, though he wondered if he was doing it for her or for himself.

"Will you ever return?" she asked, the silent 'to me' hanging in the air between them.

He smiled brightly at her. "One day," he promised, "when I can't bear to stay away from you any longer."

Clarisse moved to kiss his cheek but he moved his head and she instead kissed his lips. She froze for only a second before instinct, and desire, took over. It was sweet and she would never forget the feel of him. His arms moved to wrap around her body, pulling her even closer. Memory took over and she followed suit.

"You are my best friend," she whispered to him when they pulled apart. She kissed his lips chastely. "And I'll always love you."

He nodded. "And I will always love you."

* * *

July 8, 1968 – 05.11

All was quiet in the palace and that was what Clarisse was hoping for. She pushed back the covers from her body and checked to see that Rupert was sound asleep. At five o'clock in the morning, he usually was.

Her bare feet touched the soft carpet and she moved across it quickly. She didn't want to take any chances and be caught. She dressed quickly and in the dark but still managed to look queen-like.

She passed only night guards as she made her way to the palace garage. George, the attendant and one of the drivers, would just be arriving on duty. He was a friendly man, eager to please people, and he would be more than happy to grant her request.

"Good morning, your Majesty," he greeted when she appeared at the door. "You're up awfully early today."

"I couldn't sleep any longer," she fibbed. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind taking me over to the church."

George smiled graciously at her. "Of course not, your Majesty. I certainly hope nothing is wrong, though."

Why did people keep saying that to her?

"No, I just … I have something on my mind," she vaguely explained.

George help up his hand to stop her. "Say no more, ma'am. I understand completely."

Clarisse smiled at him. "Thank you, George."

They were in the car and at the church in less than ten minutes. George insisted on opening the doors for her, even though she insisted she could do it herself just this once. After all, it was five in the morning and this was an unscheduled trip. No one would be there to harm her. But she indulged him and thanked him for his help.

She could only hear the click of her heels as she approached the altar. The sound echoed from the walls and the tall ceiling. It sounded foreboding to her ears.

She kneeled in front of the altar and crossed herself.

_'Oh Lord, have mercy on my soul_

_For I have walked a sinful road_

_So I'm gonna get down on my knees_

_Beg forgiveness to help set me free_

_Lord, have mercy on me please'_

"Is there anything I can help you with, your Majesty?" the Archbishop said from beside her.

Clarisse smiled sadly and she slowly rose from her place only to kneel again to kiss his left hand. "I don't think anyone can help me, Your Grace."

"Perhaps I can try." He motioned for her to stand and follow him to one of the pews. "What has been bothering you?"

She knew she could trust him. She had known this kind man since she was eighteen-years-old. While she was in Confession, she knew their conversation would go no further than themselves.

"I'm in a terrible dilemma with myself," she started. "Something in my past has presented itself and it is causing confusion within me. I feel as though I am betraying someone in my present life by… remembering the past and the feelings I once had for this other person."

The Archbishop took that in before asking, "Have you acted upon anything with the person from your past?"

"Heaven's, no!" she was quick to say. "I could never. I feel guilty enough just remembering. Bu I suppose I could say that I still have love for this man."

"I am assuming the person of your present would be His Majesty, yes?"

Clarisse nodded. "Before we married," her head lowered, "I'm afraid I wasn't… faithful to His Majesty."

The Archbishop appeared understanding. "How so, your Majesty?"

Her head lowered even further and she nervously fiddled with her fingers. "I was involved with this other man for a short while. And I loved him. I still love him; I'm ashamed to say more so than my husband." Her last words were whispered, for she feared if she said it any louder she would be struck down.

"Love is not a sin, my dear," he told her simply.

She looked at him, her face drawn in shock. "But I don't love the right man."

"But you care for him and you love him as a friend?" Clarisse nodded. "And you respect him?" Again, Clarisse nodded. "Then you are not sinning. There was nothing in your vows that said you hade to be in love with your husband."

"But it feels wrong to not," she whispered, her mouth feeling dry.

"And it will continue to," he said honestly, "until you can find it within yourself that it is acceptable."

"And what if I never do?"

"You will," he assured, patting her hand. "But you will never forget your first love. Did the two of you part ways on a friendly note?"

Clarisse nodded. "Well, mostly. I was afraid to tell him the circumstances that were in place. I waited too long and he was quite upset when I told him. It was understandable and I didn't blame him for it. I battled myself during those months of our relationship if I should do my duty to my country or follow my heart. I chose to do my duty and there are times I regret my choice. I love my life and I love my sons more than anything in the world, but I can't help but wonder if I would be even happier with this other man."

"By choosing to marry the king, you have acknowledged that life isn't always about only ourselves. Other people must also be considered when making certain choices. It is then a personal struggle to decide whether the right course was taken. Do you think you've taken the right course?"

She struggled for the answer. "There are times I do and there are times I don't." She looked to the ceiling for answers. "It was expected of me and I had to do it."

The Archbishop nodded. "Perhaps."

She looked over at him. "I didn't have to do it?"

"That's not what I said," he reminded. "I'm sure you were under a lot of pressure. But we can't spend our lives thinking 'what if?' We must sometimes let the past go and hope that the future will turn out nicely and not disappoint us."

"I'm not disappointed," she mused. "I'm… relieved that I've been given another chance to make everything right with this man. I'm relieved that a friendship is possible for us."

Clarisse fell silent. Her shoulders felt lighter from the weight taken off of them. Her heart felt less… constricted. She looked at the mural to the left of the altar. Suddenly, the people weren't looking at her scornfully now. But the image of Mary still pulled at her heart. _'Why can't I be like you?'_ she thought to herself.

"Do you think I will be forgiven?" she pondered out loud.

He covered her hand with his own and looked into her blue eyes. "Being in love cannot be punished. It is not a crime and certainly not a sin. The forgiveness must come from within your own heart."

"But I've tried!" she interrupted somewhat loudly. What he did surprised her. He laughed.

"It won't happen overnight, dear. It takes time. Some guilt remains but one day you might find that it doesn't hurt so much to remember what once was. Instead, it will be a fond memory that you hold close to your heart."

Clarisse focused her eyes on the mural again. "I need that to happen now," she muttered.

He chuckled again. "Patience, my dear. In time, you will understand and you will see you have done nothing wrong. You are only human, Clarisse, but matters of the heart are not meant to control the life."

Clarisse chuckled. "You certainly hold all the answers, Your Grace."

"But have my answers helped you?"

Clarisse thought about that. Could she put the past behind her? Yes, but it would take time. Could she forgive herself? Eventually. Would she come to believe that having love for Joseph, and not acting on it, was not a sin? She nodded to herself. Given time, she would be fine. She wouldn't let guilt control her life any further.

"Yes, they have," she told him at last.

"And you will forgive yourself?"

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "With time, yes, but I may require your guidance along the way."

"Well, you know where my office is," he joked. Then, he solemnly said, "Whenever you need to talk, you know I'll be here, Clarisse."

She smiled at him. "I know and I appreciate it."

They sat in silence again. She could hear noises—the choir practicing off in another part of the church, the priests speaking in low voices. She wasn't clouded by her own worries anymore. The world around her revolved once again.

She glanced at her watch when she heard the bells from the belfry. She was amazed at what time it was. Time flew when one was confessing matters of the soul.

"I'd better be returning to the palace before all the hustle and bustle starts." The two rose from their seats. "Thank you, Your Grace, for everything."

"It is my duty, your Majesty, and my pleasure." She kneeled and kissed his left hand before smiling and rising to leave.

It felt wondrous getting everything off her chest. She couldn't believe she'd done it but she would do it again in a heartbeat. Yes, she would be fine with time. Just fine.

_'Well, I've gone and confessed my regrets_

_And I pray I'm not held in contempt_

_I'm so lost and I need you to help me repent'_

* * *

The End


End file.
